Unspoken
by Sifirela
Summary: Fear is the last thing on my mind. Although darkness is my weakness and light is my strength, I ironically find myself attracted to the bleakness of black loving darkness.


Unspoken

_**Unspoken**_

_**By Sifirela**_

_**Edited and Added Pieces by LG**_

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing. The character belongs to LG. The other character belongs to Sunrise/Bandai/whoever. I own nothing.**_

**Note: There is a strong message in the story. You'll have to read it to actually understand the message. It is in present tense, and first person for a reason. There are repetitive words that are there in necessity to feel the emotion. I'm sure I could have done it a different way. But I did it the best way I knew how and what I was feeling at the moment. I feel I have captivated this certain character the way I think he would in his situation. I did it to the best of my ability and have gotten positive reviews before I even thought of putting it up here. LegendsGuardian has helped me with it and I owe it all to her for her character involvement. Thank you!**

**Anyway. I do hope you enjoy!**

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I feel the cold, damp floor on my back. My thoughts are on me, and only me. The darkness seeps in from all the corners. Fear is the last thing on my mind. Although darkness is my weakness and light is my strength, I ironically find myself attracted to the bleakness of black loving darkness. It is like a drug, a cool breeze on the skin that is tortured by the heat of the room. I take no notice.

I notice me and only me. My pain. My rejection.

I look at the only source of light that seems to penetrate through the solid coated black. It is my alarm clock, flashing 12:00 a.m. I never bothered to change it after the electricity had come back on. Never got up as the storm pounded on my apartment, threatening to open the already rusted window. I knew I was in my home. My one true home where I can feel like myself.

No Father to tell me what is right and what is wrong. No Mother to assure me everything will be fine. No sister to condemn how I look, how I act, and how I stand on my own. And best of all, no Grandfather to reject how I live, reject reality as it comes face to face with him.

I am glad to be free of the poison they fed me most of my life.

Yet...

Yet...

Yet why do I feel the darkness as my friend instead of my enemy? Why do I feel the emptiness that is supposed to be non-existent?

It has been weeks, no months, since I last spoke with my estranged family. They have yet to come and ensnare me in their trap. I feel the void is opening up. No one can save me. I am not sorry for my chosen path. I am not sorry for trying my life out as an individual, instead of a puppet.

I have yet to hear from my friends who have supported my decisions. I have yet to hear from anybody; except the very few I have let into my life.

I know my eyes are closed now. The emptiness is fading. And I hear nothing…Nothing but the water trickling in the distance, the solid silence of no one there. I find myself slowly falling into a peaceful sleep. My mind is now on alert, something is so wrong about this peaceful darkness. I think I hear a voice. A riveting resonance of someone I truly care for, yet cannot have. My heart lurches, but I cannot respond. My tongue feels like it is in a vice, a grip that cannot be undone. I frantically try to open my eyes, the emptiness I once felt now gone, and my heart racing. I feel warm hands on me, yet I cannot reach out and touch back.

I think I hear 'Hold on' but it could have been my conscious trying to trick me into consciousness. I cannot go back into that world of hate, loneliness, and unbearably loud silence. It is too much to bear. I am a coward. I admit it.

I am a coward of the lowest degree. I cannot face my problems, my life is far too complex. Far more complex than any can truly understand.

However…why?

Why do I find myself caring about living? I do not want to die, yet I do not want to live. Then I remember, the hands that are on me, the ones trying to wake me up and have me regain consciousness in order to face reality. I fight. I fight my instincts to wake up.

I do not want to wake up.

Silence again rings in my ears. I am scared now, the emptiness rearing its ugly head.

And then…I hear weeping, feel hot tears on my face as I hear the person I care about…I know her voice, I know her willingness to not give up. It strengthens me to know someone cares so much about me, yet hurts all the same. She does seem to understand, yet she too is in the category of those that will never learn who I truly am…

Finally…the emptiness starts to wane, the heat starts to cool, and my head slowly clears. I hear, in the distance as my ears are tuned, the birds singing joyfully. The rain seems to have stopped; the silence is nice for a change the lack of sharp obnoxious noises a welcome reprieve. My eyes clench close as light begins to filter through. I blink several times, hearing a groan escape my lips. I am not on the cold floor like I was beforehand. I now know I am on my bed, in my room. I feel a warm hand on mine. My eyes open slowly, hurting from the intense brightness of the room.

I see the woman with light hair flowing gently around her like a red river. She is sleeping and for the first time in a long while; I smile.

I retract my hand and as I do this, her eyes open to reveal their pale blue color that are heavily lidded with sleep and worry. My heart feels weighty with guilt. Her eyes turn cold, looking away. She stands up and steps back, pointing an accusing finger at me. She just looks at me with strange eyes I have never seen before. I force myself to say something, however nothing comes out. I open my mouth, yet close it again.

She crosses her arms over her chest and then looks at me with undefined eyes. "How could you?" She finally speaks; her voice is stern yet completely and utterly lack of restraint of emotion. I wince. I hear my heart pounding again and feel my eyes lidded with sadness as I look down.

I am ashamed.

I am ashamed that I do not remember why I am here in the first place. How I fell this low.

"Why? Is it really worth it to hurt yourself this way? Why? Why did you do this to yourself?" She asks. I have no answer. My mind tries to remember what, and why, I have done whatever it is I did. She picks up a white bottle and throws it at me, it lands on the bed and I look at it. I read it as a prescription drug, a name I can hardly pronounce. It was useless to remember. My mind still is drawing a blank.

I again try to talk, but my voice gone. I tilt my head and frown, looking at her with disbelief. She looks at me once more, this time her eyes harden.

"What are you trying to prove, Sage? Trying to kill yourself!" She shouts, anger, dismay and hurt are reflected in her tone.

My body turns numb, my brain now on alert. "Wh--what?" I look down in horror, now that I look at the medicine I know what I tried to do last night…And why I felt so terrified, yet peaceful….I shudder as a cold breeze settles over my soul. There is no window open, no draft that could sneak its way in here. But I still feel cold.

I lift my head, shock registers my heart to see my best friend's face filled with tears streaming down.

"You don't remember what you did, do you?" She queries, completely broken.

I shut my eyes, feeling a stinging sensation enter around them. I shook my head and heard a sob.

"I'm sorry." My voice finally finds itself albeit really high pitched and low at the same time.

"You jerk." She says shakily and with another sob that racks her body, "How…How can you say you're sorry…What you've done….It only adds to the stress—and…." She stops in her speech. She must know that I will not hear her speak, only because I am enamored by the fact that I tried something I never thought to do...Something she has always been against. Guilt spreads through me again. I feel a hand again on my face, this time hard against my cheek. My hand raises to the now throbbing spot.

"You're such a coward. Such a stupid son of a bitchin coward!" She says in a voice I have never heard before. It was dangerous, it was angered, and it jolted something inside me. I defy my urge to run. I only do as I was taught and nod, looking at my hands.

"Stop doing that! Stop being so obedient to everything you hear!" She yells again, this time fury reaches her face. I do not understand…Why she is getting mad at me…Why is it that she keeps on trying to tell me something by getting angry.

I feel a rush of emotion slide over me. Something that hadn't been there since childhood. Something that was squelched out of me. I stagger out of bed and with the help of the post wobble to her. She is standing there, shell-shock rapidly flying across her face as I take one step at a time. She lurches forward as I take another step. "Sage! What are you doing! Don't do anything drastic!"

Don't do this and don't do that. I have heard that all my life. The 'what to do's and 'what to not do's. It was irritating me to no end, which made me walk faster, and faster. I walk past her into the bathroom; my body screaming in protest. The drugs have yet to be gone from my system. I trip, almost hitting the lavatory and grasp the bar on the left. I ball my other hand into a fist and thrust it into the wall, screaming in rage. I felt something break inside me as I fell onto the tiled floor, crumpled as I shudder and shake. Something wet hits my face and for a second I thought something had leaked. My hand lifts to my eyes and felt for the first time in a long time, tears. Suddenly they started coming out one by one, then thousands as I sit crumpled on the floor. I know she is looking in with a bewildered expression but for now I could care less.

I staid there…I don't remember for how long, and I only came back to the world around me because of what I felt. At some point she came into the bathroom with me, wrapped her arms around me in a hug, and placed her face into the crook of my neck.

I don't know how long she was there for, just letting me expunge myself of everything I was feeling, everything I had not let myself feel in so long.

I opened my mouth to say something to her, but nothing would come to my mind. She noticed I was aware of her presence, silenced me, "Sh. It'll be okay…We'll get through this you and I."

But she had been so angry before, I had never seen her mad not like that. The confusion must show on my face…Because her eyes flash with guilt, "Oh Sage I'm not mad at you, for pities sake-" She catches herself, emotion slipping through and almost preventing her from talking. "I was angry by the 'what'…It doesn't matter right now."

She releases me from her embrace, and a part of me somewhere is disappointed. I look up at her as she walks so that she is at my side, "Let me get you back to bed, and off this cold floor. I don't need you catching pneumonia on me, too."

I offer a wane smile at her attempt at humor, and can see some of the tension in her face and body fade in response. Weakly, I stand up, not surprised when she catches me and forces me to use her for support.

Support…It's almost sad the way she has always been there for me. I honestly think that if she knew of my past, of my fights, she would have been there. Lack of power or not, I know she would have willingly gone through hell to get me out, and damned every one who tried to stop her.

"What are you grinning about?" she asks an eyebrow raised

I can only grin, "I have a beautiful woman, taking me to bed. What else could I ask for?"

"Asshole," she mutters rolling her eyes, but the remaining worry, fear, and tension in her melt away. I'm acting like myself again, it's cause enough for both of us to relax...For now.


End file.
